Page 58 of Switch!
I curl up on the floor and sulk, wishing my mother was there so I could lay my head in her lap like I used to when I was a child. She would always stroke my hair and whisper soothing words until I calmed down.
“It’s okay, baby boy. Everything will be fine.”
I’m surprised by her voice and the sensation of cloth pressing against my cheek. When I raise my head in shock, I see her. My mother is kneeling on the floor with me, but her expression doesn’t change. Even when she begins to fade away.
Of course. I watch as she disappears entirely, certain that I conjured her up just like the room I’m in. What’s the deal with that anyway? I wanted a place to go where light and sound couldn’t get in or out, and yet I can still see. That doesn’t make sense. I suppose it doesn’t have to. The laws of physics don’t exist in my imagination. I conjure up a swirling ultraviolet ball, making the room look as though someone switched on a blacklight. To end the effect, I only need to banish the ball. I stop playing after that, unsure if this game has external consequences. I’ve caused enough trouble. I’ll sit quietly in my black box for now.
Eventually, when I grow bored enough, I leave the self-imposed exile to check on my host. Something is wrong. The world is even darker. I’m blind, but I can still hear the slow rhythm of breathing from next to me. Jesse must be asleep! That explains why I can’t see. His eyes are closed. This seems as good as time as any to experiment. I attempt to enter Phase Two, if such terms are applicable anymore.
Soft pillowcase pressing against cheek, the hum of a fan that caresses my hair with each pass, the flickering of an eyelash and…
WAKE UP.
My eyes open. I might as well call them mine because I don’t sense Jesse’s thoughts. Maybe he’s still dreaming. I glance at the clock next to me, the glowing red digits asserting that it’s past three in the morning. I sit up and look over at Colin’s slumbering form, but he doesn’t stir, so I swing my legs out of bed and stand. I don’t turn on any lights until I’m shut in the bathroom. Once I flick the switch, I squint into the mirror as my eyes adjust. Jesse is in his underwear. His body is in decent shape. He doesn’t have Caleb’s muscles, but his shoulders are broad with a sweep of brown hair that covers his chest. I touch this, realizing that I’ve aged six years in a matter of hours. That would explain the slight love handles, which I’m also not used to. I pinch them experimentally. Then I sit on the toilet and try to figure out my next move.
What if I went home to my original body? I could make Jesse travel there, switch back to it and— Caleb! I cover my mouth to muffle a sob, but out of relief because I’ve spent the last few hours convinced that I’m a murderer. He’s not dead though! His physical form might be, but not his soul. That’s safely tucked away in my natural body. My elation is short-lived when I consider the logistics. Caleb still needs that body. Maybe I could return home and share it with him, like I am now with Jesse. That might be easier. Caleb is convinced he’s me, so there shouldn’t be any conflicts of personality. We would, in essence, become one.
Creepy, but I’m the one who made this freaky bed. Speaking of which, I probably shouldn’t keep Jesse up too long. I rise, flick off the bathroom lights, and quietly pad through the bedroom. I’m distracted by an open window and pause next to it. The view isn’t bad. I can see the street and another apartment complex. Behind the building is a lush green hill, the tops of trees silhouetted by moonlight. On the gentle breeze, I swear I can smell the famous aroma of Tacoma drifting in from the bay. People compare it to rotten eggs. The scent of sulfur isn’t noticeable in most areas of the city or even all the time, but I’ve already begun to associate it with the good things that have happened to me since moving here.
Sarah especially. I can already imagine her reaction if I said the city’s notorious stench makes me think of her. I want to hear her voice again. And see her one more time. The same with Eddie. Even if I don’t speak with him, I have to make sure he’s okay. Then I’ll go home to Cheyenne and set things right. As much as possible anyway. I can’t give the McCains their son back. From their perspective, Caleb is dead and will remain that way. I’ve made a terrible mistake. Before I crawl back into bed, I promise myself that it will be the last.
Eighteen ↔ Chapter
I manage something close to sleep during the night, although it’s mental rather than physical exhaustion that causes me to lose consciousness. I’m guessing my mind still needs to process and organize my thoughts because when Jesse and I wake up, I do feel refreshed. The morning is young. We’re alone in the bed. Jesse is content to remain lying there, his thoughts drifting to the events of the night before. As do mine. We’re both starting to feel down again when an alarm goes off. He rolls over and grabs his phone to stop the nerve-grating noise. Then, with a heavy sigh, he gets out of bed and plods to the bathroom. I’m mildly curious when he goes about his business. Wieners come in all shapes and sizes, and while that never interested me much before, I stare longer than usual. Strange. I also learn how it feels to scratch a hairy butt and to rub a scruffy chin. After another yawn, Jesse puts on a robe and walks to the kitchen, stopping when he notices that the table is set. His head turns toward the open kitchen where Colin stands in front of a sizzling frying pan.
“Did you take the day off?” Jesse asks.
“No,” Colin replies, glancing over his shoulder. “I’ll be late. Again. What are they going to do, fire me?”
“They might,” Jesse shoots back.
“Then I guess those department store mannequins will have to dress themselves. Unless they want to get Sherry from sportswear to do it again. A tennis visor paired with earmuffs? What was she thinking?”
“People don’t play tennis in cold weather?” Jesse asks as he sits at the table.
“Don’t get me started.” Colin turns off the burner. After taking plates from the cabinet and transferring the contents of the frying pan to them, he hurries over. “Coffee is already poured. It should be just the right temperature.”
He sets down a plate in front of me. It’s an omelet. I think. My mother served eggs three ways: hard-boiled, fried, or scrambled. I’ve never had an omelet in my life. I think it looks like yellow putty, but Jesse’s mouth is already watering.
“Greek style,” Colin says as he takes a seat across the table. “We were low on feta, so you got the last of the cheese. That’s how much I adore you.”
“I can tell,” Jesse says, his throat tight. Then he smiles before grabbing his fork. “I’m starving.”
“Go ahead,” Colin says, sighing dramatically as he pushes the ketchup bottle closer. “Ruin my culinary efforts if you must.”
Ketchup makes everything better.
We’re in agreement there! Jesse drenches the plate in red before digging in. I experience all of his senses just as he does. It’s a little strange to enjoy a meal vicariously, but I have to admit the eggs taste good.
“What do you have planned today?” Colin asks.
Visit Eddie. That’s my number one priority. I’m sorry if Jesse has other ideas in mind, but I need to know if my friend is okay.
Colin holds up his hand before I can answer him. “Don’t tell me. You’re going to the hospital to check on your patients.”
“Am I that predictable?” Jesse asks.
“Yes. I think it’s sweet. Maybe you should become a doctor, considering how much time you spend there. That way you’ll rake in enough cash for me to live the life of luxury that I was destined for.”
